Fratello Mio
by Crystal Kira
Summary: Romano hated that the world looked down on him. He hated it. But what he hated more, was that not even his little brother could look up to him. Not that he'd ever admit it…


**A/N: The next in the Insight series features Romano. Check out some of the other Insight one-shots I have, if you like this one!**

**Also, I take requests. Even if a character has already been done, you can ask for the same character but with a different bit of insight (which you may provide for me if you want).**

**A note for those who don't know: "fratellino" is Italian for "little brother", while "fratellone" is Italian for "big brother."**

**Title translates, as you might have guessed, to "Brother Mine".**

**Enjoy!**

**/**

"Just once, Veneziano, couldn't you say something nice about me like that?"

He was greeted by a bit lip and some silence, and he stormed off angrily, not even waiting for his little brother's answer.

If he'd only waited a moment longer.

/

It started a long time ago, during the age of the Roman Empire.

He and his brother had been born into an empire of splendor and greatness, twins who undoubtedly would be there to carry on the great cultural legacy of Rome.

He'd grown a little faster than his brother, making him slightly older. But they were still twins, still brothers, still Italy.

So why didn't his grandfather take him away to teach him about the world, too?

/

Later on, his little brother finally came back, after the fall of Rome.

Resentful and jealous, he often spurned his fratellino and bullied him, wondering what was so special about this little runt that made him more worthy of his grandfather's affection than him.

The bitterness seemed to become his personality.

But his fratellino kept trying.

/

They were split apart rather quickly and given as property to their respective masters. While Austria had won them both, he found that Austria didn't much care for him and dumped him onto Spain, considering him a worthless piece of land and too troublesome to bother with.

It hurt him a lot more than anyone knows, or so he thought.

His fratellino's eyes shone with sorrow at seeing his brother leave so upset.

He was the only one who could tell.

/

The bitterness growing, he lashed out at his caretaker often and broke many objects in the house, unable to find anything else to vent on.

It shouldn't have surprised him when he heard Spain ask Austria for a trade.

His stupid fratellino just kept on working, being so fucking _perfect_, oblivious to the fact that the tomato bastard wanted to exchange them, oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of so many of his miseries.

He knew they all thought his brother was so much better than him, the assholes.

His brother… _was_ so much better…

He hated seeing his brother spot him and look at him with a pitiful gaze, and fled home.

He didn't need his stupid pity! Did _he_ think he was better than him, too, the little pest?

/

He began to spurn any affection he got, especially from stupid Spain.

The world soon grew to know him as "unlovable", and learned how he hated affection and what he called "sentimental mushy crap." Even his fratellino heard about it.

_(Maybe that was why he stopped trying to hug you._)

And maybe it _was_ kind of his fault for acting that way, but still!

He knew that even if someone did show affection (especially that bastard Spain) to him, he'd still be second place to his brother.

"Ah, you're so uncute… Why can't you be more like your brother, Romano?"

His brother was so fucking _perfect_.

How could such a nice word turn so sour?

/

His fratellino ended up saving him from Turkey.

He would've thanked him if it wasn't for the fact that it was utterly pathetic that he relied on his _little_ brother to come save his ass.

He would've gotten out on his own, dammit!

He made sure to let him know that, and shoved him away.

Stupid, perfect, little bastard.

/

Time passed and they started to grow up.

The world knew how much of a pain he was, he often heard the sneers and whispers about him, and in turn responded with more anger and lash-outs. He heard how everyone thought his little brother was so much nicer, so much more _perfect_.

He was starting to hate that word.

The two brothers unified, even if he didn't want to. He really didn't! His fratellino just wouldn't leave him alone so he helped the unification effort just to shut him up, that was all it was!

But the look on his fratellino's face on the day they first held their colors together, eyes shining with joy and… adoration.

No one had ever looked at him like that before.

It was… kind of nice.

He couldn't bring himself to push him away when he was tackled with a hug.

He sighed, (not in contentment, obviously!) and reluctantly (_not_ tenderly!) returned the gesture, tucking his brother's head under his chin and wrapping his arms protectively and tightly around him.

…Maybe he held on a little longer than he should have, but he wasn't going to admit it.

/

Wartime came, and his brother went and started following the potato bastard around like a puppy, fawning over him at all times. When he came home, it was "Ludwig this" and "Germany that", it was so fucking annoying!

It _wasn't_ that he wanted his little brother to say something nice about _him_ instead of the kraut, he just hated the potato bastard and didn't want to hear about him in the slightest. He wasn't jealous, shut up!

But with the end of the war came tragedy, and his brother stopped talking about Germany, and they both ended up bloodied and bandaged, slowly recovering from a long and grueling invasion.

He hated seeing his brother so heartbroken and scared.

He let him sleep in his bed for a while.

Just to keep him quiet, of course, not because he was looking for comfort, too!

/

More time passes, and the world still fawns over his brother instead of him, looking down on him as second best, that undesirable and foul-mouthed, talentless coward.

It wouldn't have been so bad if at least his brother didn't look down on him too.

He… all those years ago, on that day of his unification, he realized he maybe-sorta-kinda liked it when his brother fawned over him.

Not that he cared about his fratellino's opinion of him or anything.

But still.

It was nice to have someone look up to him, so he didn't feel so utterly worthless.

Especially if it was his "_perfect"_ little brother (_his beautiful, precious, perfect little baby brother-)_, but don't go telling anyone, dammit!

And it hurt when his brother didn't answer.

"Just once, Feli, couldn't you say something nice about _me_ like that?"

_Because you're my precious fratellino and I love you so, so much… Even if I don't show it._

He was greeted once again by a bit lip and some silence (_I thought you hated affection, fratellone…Won't you get mad if I answer?)_, and he stormed off angrily and dejectedly once more, not even waiting long enough for his little brother's answer.

"You're my precious fratellone and I love you so, so much… Even if you won't let me show it."

If he'd only waited a moment longer.

/

**There ends the next installment of the Insight series.**

**As you might be able to tell, I see the Italies as a tragic pair.**

**I hope it was decent, please review and let me know what you think!**

**Thanks for reading!**


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